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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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Rosemary
listened
with
distaste
to
this
rigmarole
;
to
appreciate
its
grotesquerie
required
a
more
robust
sense
of
humor
than
hers
.
The
little
man
with
his
portable
manufactory
,
his
insincere
eyes
that
,
from
time
to
time
,
rolled
white
semicircles
of
panic
into
view
;
the
figure
of
Abe
,
his
face
as
blurred
as
the
gaunt
fine
lines
of
it
would
permit
—
all
this
was
as
remote
from
her
as
sickness
.
"
I
ask
only
a
chance
in
life
,
"
said
Peterson
with
the
sort
of
precise
yet
distorted
intonation
peculiar
to
colonial
countries
.
"
My
methods
are
simple
,
my
formula
is
so
good
that
I
was
drove
away
from
Stockholm
,
ruined
,
because
I
did
not
care
to
dispose
of
it
.
"
Dick
regarded
him
politely
—
interest
formed
,
dissolved
,
he
turned
to
Abe
:
"
You
go
to
some
hotel
and
go
to
bed
.
After
you
’
re
all
straight
Mr
.
Peterson
will
come
and
see
you
.
"
"
But
don
’
t
you
appreciate
the
mess
that
Peterson
’
s
in
?
"
Abe
protested
.
"
I
shall
wait
in
the
hall
,
"
said
Mr
.
Peterson
with
delicacy
.
"
It
is
perhaps
hard
to
discuss
my
problems
in
front
of
me
.
"
He
withdrew
after
a
short
travesty
of
a
French
bow
;
Abe
pulled
himself
to
his
feet
with
the
deliberation
of
a
locomotive
.
"
I
don
’
t
seem
highly
popular
to
-
day
.
"
"
Popular
but
not
probable
,
"
Dick
advised
him
.
"
My
advice
is
to
leave
this
hotel
—
by
way
of
the
bar
,
if
you
want
.
Go
to
the
Chambord
,
or
if
you
’
ll
need
a
lot
of
service
,
go
over
to
the
Majestic
.
"
"
Could
I
annoy
you
for
a
drink
?
"
